Rivers of Orion by Dana Kelly (a court of thorns and roses ebook free .TXT) 📕

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April sat alone on the mess deck, hunched over a cup of coffee. The air felt cool as it quietly hummed through the vents. Lost in her thoughts, she sipped her drink.

Krané’s vocoder came in loud and clear through a nearby communications panel. “April, do you have a minute?”

She glanced toward a tiny camera dome before getting to her feet and nodding. She reached the communications panel a moment later. “What’s on your mind?”

“Can you come to my quarters? It’s a delicate matter.”

“Do I have time to finish my coffee?” she asked.

“If you must,” said Krané.

“Thanks,” said April. “I’ll head over right after.”

In time, she navigated the passageways to Krané’s quarters, and he opened his door. Inside, softly glowing organic filaments dangled from the overhead. His recessed bed included a watertight enclosure, and a massive lava lamp stood in the corner, nearly as tall as Krané. He welcomed her inside and guided her to his recessed desk. “Sir, sit,” he said as he pushed aside a large, weathered reference manual, and he opened a video file on his computer console.

“Is this the dash cam footage?” she asked.

“It is,” said Krané. His oral tentacles undulated rapidly, and his beak clicked loudly as his vocoder worked to keep up. “I’ve been poring over it, playing it back again and again, comparing his expressions against the Binary Classification Handbook.”

“What did you find?”

He advanced the video to the SUV’s moment of collision and froze the frame. “Here,” he began, and he indicated the debris. “You say he’s a waveformer, and that would certainly account for his ability to reverse gravity, but it doesn’t explain how the truck and every single piece of concrete and glass is suspended in the air. Gravity is a very weak force of attraction. At its most dangerous, it’s a crushing force.” Frame by frame, Krané scrubbed the video back and forth.

April studied each frame. “What am I looking for?”

“There!” At the instant of impact, a spherical distortion radiated from Orin. “Do you see that?”

“I do,” she whispered. “The force he created caught the debris.”

“And the truck! It just negated their momentum, like they had no mass at all.”

“Was I wrong, then?” She leaned forward. “Is he a kinetic?”

“He’s also a kinetic,” said Krané.

“Impossible. The Higgs-Sawyer helix can’t support more than one type of expression.”

“Maybe his is evolved,” said Krané. “Or maybe he doesn’t have one at all!”

“There must be another explanation,” said April.

“You’re convinced he’s unprecedented. Perhaps he is in more ways than one.” Krané advanced the playback to the moment Orin wrapped the streetlight around Bello. “Review his final expression,” he said, and he looped the event.

April watched it several times. “I’d say it’s further proof of his kinetic aptitude, but you have that look in your eye. What am I not seeing?”

“Pay close attention to the light pole,” said Krané. “He breaks the glass when he first uproots it, but the concrete doesn’t shatter, fracture or even crack at any point along its length. It stretches and contracts fluidly.”

“Molecular manipulation,” said April.

Krané took a step back. His eyes faded to bright chartreuse. “Only an atomic can do that!”

April stared at the screen. “That’s impossible.”

“Data doesn’t lie,” he said. “That’s three categorically distinct forms of expression. If you feel like including that psychic bunker of his, it might be four.”

April leaned against her hands and exhaled. “Please don’t tell Casey.”

“That’s why I called you,” said Krané. “Knowing her, she’d probably space the poor guy.”

With a dry chuckle, April glanced his way. “It’s entirely possible.” She got back to her feet and took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, and she faced the door. “I need you to make an encrypted copy of this video for me and for yourself. Do not upload anything to the servers. Destroy the original datastick and replace it with a blank.”

Krané nodded. “Right away.”

“If Casey asks, tell her the footage got corrupted when it was exposed to Orin’s powers.” April exited his quarters, and the door closed behind her.

Chapter 10

Beacon

Rhyon slowly receded as the starship Fox Mendes raced through the void. Bearing a decidedly maritime profile, she looked sturdy, painted matte gray, and decorated with red, gold, and white trim. A wide S-Ring snugly encircled her rear thrusters, and thick plates protected her forward thrusters.

Upper and lower cannon turrets swiveled upon armored outriggers positioned at the starship’s centerline, and two pairs of smaller turrets pointed away from the vessel’s V-shaped gravity keel. Positioned behind the cannons, a battery of launch tubes housed her complement of missiles. Just below the quarterdeck and directly above the rear thrusters, heavy doors enclosed the hunter-destroyer’s hangar bay.

Mike crept along a dimly lit passageway. Far behind him, a dozen boots tromped in unison as someone called out attack forms, and he seized the moment to hurry the remaining distance to a heavy steel door. He waited for another callout and timed opening the door with the tromping of boots.

Torsha glanced his way and waved as he peered inside. Nimbus blinked a series of diodes as Mike entered the darkened cargo hold. Briefly taking the form of a miniature turbofan, Nimbus attached himself to the door and quietly pushed it closed. He dispersed and reformed on top of a sturdy plastic bin in the form of a tiny water cooler. “Miguel, Torsha, I have condensed five hundred milliliters of water.”

“Thanks,” said Mike. “I found these.” He retrieved a stack of plastic cups and a dozen meal bars from his pants pockets, scattering them next to Nimbus. “There’re drums full of crude protein in the galley, if we feel like getting creative.”

“Don’t you mean ‘ammoniated vat paste?’” asked Torsha, and she made a face. “How can you even think about eating that stuff?”

“I won’t tell you what goes into our cat food, then,” said Mike.

With mock offense, Torsha responded, “You’re always so thoughtful. I guess I won’t tell you what goes